


Hot and Grumpy

by winchysteria



Series: Sterek Drabbles [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Burlesque Club, Burlesque, Crossdressing Stiles Stilinski, M/M, but if you have a good imagination im sure you can make it work, danny and scott are only there for a second, i love the fact that crossdressing stiles has its own tag, more vague smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 13:52:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winchysteria/pseuds/winchysteria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles works at a burlesque club, and his favorite customer is that incredibly sexy scowling one right over there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot and Grumpy

**Author's Note:**

> More Sterek drabble for tumblr user tsunderepunk, who said "BURLESQUE!STILES DANCING FOR DEREK WHO'S A FREQUENT PATRON AT A CLUB STILES DANCES AT AND STILES SINGLING HIM OUT IN A CROWD AND STUFF AND PLEASE" and that's really the best way to summarize this mess.
> 
> winchysteria.tumblr.com

Hot and Grumpy didn’t get off to the most auspicious start at The Nemeton. To be honest, Stiles hadn’t even noticed him coming in. He only caught his attention when Stiles approached to deliver drinks designated for “sourface over there and all the girls” (as Danny said.) Due to Stiles’ habit of eavesdropping before entering, he’d heard “Jesus Christ, Laura, why-” in one of those panty-dropping rumbly voices, even if it was whiny.

The woman next to him had snorted and dug an elbow into his side. “Come on, Der, it’s my bachelorette party. You have to do what I want! What are you embarrassed about, anyway? That it’s full of guys in heels? It’s kinda been public knowledge since like sophomore year that you don’t mind a healthy dose of the d-“

This was when Stiles had made his entrance, strutting into the conversation in his fishnets, holding a tray of shamelessly flamboyant drinks. What could he say? He liked making an entrance. Plus, he wanted to see how the alleged “sourface” would look when tomato red from embarrassment.

And. Well. It was a good thing Stiles had already been working there a year, because there was a time- high school, specifically- when a guy that hot would have made him flail and probably fall on his ass. As it was, Stiles kept it internal, and instead made sure that said ass was well within range of those piercing eyes and that stubbly jawline as he handed out drinks to the rest of the bachelorette party.

As he strutted away, he heard an unmistakable peal of laughter from this Laura and a stage whisper that she would  _please for the love of God shut up I hate you._ In addition, Stiles had never been so sure that there were a pair of eyes fixed on his backside.

After that first day, it took precisely one week for Hot and Grumpy (Stiles’ own nickname, this time) to return, looking sinfully alluring in a leather jacket and dark jeans. He scowled just as much as he had the first time, but he wasn’t being dragged in by a bachelorette party. It was something. And it was something again when he showed up the next Friday, and then the Friday after that, and kept showing up and showing up and showing up. And every time, Stiles pretended not to notice him.

He couldn’t say exactly why he did it. He wouldn’t be the first employee, male or female, to take someone home from the club, not by a long shot. But it was something about the ridiculously piercing green eyes and how often they were looking at him that made him take his time. He became a regular, one of the people that Danny started mixing a drink for as soon as they walked in the door. One of the people that Stiles would have bantered with and flirted with and gotten damn good tips from, at that, because he was good at his job, but he wasn’t. And Stiles didn’t.

Ah, but then there was the week that he didn’t come in on Friday. Stiles may have pouted just a little bit, to the point where Danny texted Scott to make him come in and tell him fart jokes when he stopped looking happy. 

This is not something any of the other servers would have been able to get away with. But Stiles is not any of the other servers. Oh no. Well, on most days, yes, but on Saturdays.

No, on Saturdays Stiles brings in more customers than any of the other acts they have combined.

It just so happens that on the week Hot and Grumpy does not show up on Friday, he shows up on Saturday.

Stiles makes it all the way through the first number- the kickoff, with those feather fans and popping out of a circle of girls and everything- without noticing the guy at all. He might have actually made it through the whole show without noticing if Danny hadn’t texted him saying “long tan & cranky is here” and all of a sudden it was horribly important that Stiles looked  _really really good_ in his Rocky Horror bustier.

When he walked out onstage the second time, seducing circles around Jackson who was in gold shorts and looking perfectly sexy and robotic, he locked eyes with Hot and Grumpy almost immediately. He had a table in the far corner, like he was sort of afraid to be there, but Stiles’ stomach started to burn as he gyrated directly towards those eyes and shoulders and jawline, and he knew from the past few months that this man in particular did not mind watching him at all.

Somehow Stiles made it through the rest of the show without doing anything ridiculous. The grand finale was a frankly ridiculous rendition of Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend, with the chorus girls in their tiny sparkly dresses and Stiles lowered down on a swing wearing an evening gown and top hat. It had taken him forever to walk in the pumps right, and he was damned if he didn’t work it. He could practically hear the cash register noises as he slunk through the rest of the routine, making the most of the leg slit in the dress, not to mention the part where it detached and left him in a miniskirt. Being thin and pale hadn’t been so fun in high school, but he was glad it was so popular now.

He figured that the club owed him for that, so he felt pretty confident when he crouched as enticingly as he could and pointed one gloved finger out into the crowd that they’d do the spotlight for him. Sure enough, they did, and Hot and Grumpy blinked in the sudden glare. He still looked damn fine, though, and when Stiles crooked his finger, he very willingly stood up and shuffled towards the stage. Admittedly, there were a few of the waitstaff shooing him along, but he was pretty much under his own power.

And he was approaching Stiles.

The spotlight followed him all the way up the stage, and he was a pretty good sport when Stiles used him as a human prop for the last chorus. He even followed along when Stiles started climbing the stops to the curtain in the back, and after Stiles put a finger to his lips for the final “ _friend,”_ Hot and Grumpy let himself be led in through the curtain to thunderous applause.

Once safely backstage, Stiles started to revert to his spastic self. But that expressed itself in grabbing this guy by the lapels of his jacket and dragging him back against a wall, so he didn’t mind too much. “Can I put a name to a face?” he asked, licking his lips in a way that actually was unconscious, no matter what the rest of the servers said. 

"Derek," said Hot and Grumpy, gaze dropping down to Stiles’ mouth. Then lower. Then lower. Then back up to meet Stiles’ eyes with something approaching a blaze in his own stare.

"Ah, Derek," Stiles said. "I think we’re going to get along."

Derek dipped in with teeth and tongue to express what Stiles thought was probably an agreement.


End file.
